Page 48 of I Destroyed the Elf Prince's Harem

Unless…maybe they were secretly meeting up, and neither of them wanted me to know about it. Could that be it?

Whatever. I threw my hands up and shoved away from the table. Maybe this book wasn’t meant to be an action-adventure, political intrigue epic that included a harem story with lots of sex.

However, there was one big test coming up in Ulmenor. After we got through that section, I’d know whether Nylian was meant to have a harem.

Chapter 15

I Shaved for This?

Nylian had lost his goddamn mind.

When he said that he’d gotten us in on a caravan from Kodra, that should have been an immediate red flag. I should have called a complete halt to the conversation and demanded more details.

But I hadn’t, and now I was standing on the wharf at daybreak in a dress and a veil.

“I’m going to kill you,” I grumbled under my breath as we sidled up to the group of twenty other women in identical floor-length blue dresses with wide, long sleeves. That was at least helpful, as they helped to hide my not-very-feminine hands.

“You should be grateful,” Nylian whispered beside me. “When I stumbled across the caravan driver yesterday, he was in quite a state. It seems four of the women died on the long trek from Kodra through Wolfrest, and he needed an accurate count in order to board the ferry.”

Even with the heavy veil that covered the lower half of my face, I could more than adequately show my horror and shock with only my eyes at that comment.

Nylian rolled his eyes and huffed at me. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I’d never wish death on an innocent person. I’m just saying that fate finally shined her light on us and gave us the opportunity we were searching for to get to Ulmenor.”

Yeah, I got the point. Even if I wasn’t happy about it.

The elf had come knocking on my door at an ungodly hour this morning, ordering me to shave and pack my things. He’d also had a long blue dress in hand, complete with a veil and covering for my hair. Apparently, a nobleman in Kodra was attempting to establish some new trade relations with the kingdom of Galinaes.

“Sadly, Kodra’s idea of the perfect gift is always humans. Gold and gems can buy you an object once, but a human servant can service your needs a million times over a period of decades,” Nylian had explained, his voice dripping with disdain.

If I recalled correctly, Wolfrest and Edros had outlawed slavery and indentured servitude, leaving that for Kodra and Lockeheim, who were very close trading partners. I wasn’t sure about Basden. I’d never gotten around to making many notes about the island country dominated by orcs, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they kept some human slaves from their raids.

Meanwhile, Galinaes had a twisted mentality, clinging to the claim that they didn’t have slaves, because slavery was wrong. However, they also held the belief that only elves possessed souls. Everyone else was an animal and thus could be owned and used for work like a horse pulling a carriage or an ox in the field, dragging a plow behind it.

“Even under all those layers, you’re an ugly woman,” Adeline whispered loudly behind me.

My hand flew up to flip her off over my shoulder, but my hand remained swallowed under the enormous sleeve so she didn’t see the gesture she wouldn’t have understood in the first place.

Nylian reached over and slapped my arm back down. “Stop your nonsense.”

As far as I could see, all the other women lined up in twos were being quiet and demure, while our rowdy quartet was probably in danger of being whipped. Most of it was my fault, but Adeline wasn’t helping. She’d been snickering and taunting me since we’d arrived in disguise.

Not that she was wrong. I was taller than most of the women, and my broad shoulders made me appear enormous compared to the other delicate women. Even Nylian, who had me by a few inches, was slender in build and could pass for a tall woman.

“Your new owner won’t even take your veil off. He needs only to glance at you and send you to the stables,” Adeline continued despite Nylian’s warning looks.

Thankfully, we started moving forward after being stuck standing inside this dank and gloomy warehouse, waiting for our turn to board the ferry to cross Warbrand Lake. Bright sunlight momentarily blinded me as we stepped outside. Gulls cried over the bark of dockworkers, hurrying to move cargo from ships to wagons. Ropes creaked and waves crashed while the faint scent of salt and dead fish filled the air.

When I’d originally written this scene, Nylian had been hired as a caravan guard while the four women in his entourage posed as Kodra gifts. At least, I thought he’d had four women trailing after him at that point. Mentally, I was burning pages and cursing the old men who’d thought a harem was a good idea.

Jack had put in her two cents and said that my books needed more sex, though. If I ever got back to my world, I would tell Jack that this character had no interest in getting laid. His only thought was about finding his brother’s killer.

We trudged toward the ship that reminded me of old paintings I’d seen of the Mayflower. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe a galleon. Old-timey ships weren’t my strong suit. I just knew that if you called a ship a boat near a sailor, you’d get smacked. I preceded Nylian up the gangplank that had a thin rope for a bit of railing. Swallowing hard, I kept my focus on the woman moving steadily in front of me instead of the sloshing water between the dock and the boat. The elf even reached out a hand and put it on my side, as if he could sense I was feeling unsteady.

There was no opportunity for gazing about on the main deck as gruff, bearded sailors smelling of body odor and ale came to bark at us, shoving us below deck. The wood was worn smooth and scarred from hundreds of blade marks. It was likely this ship had once had a life out on the ocean prior to being repurposed as a ferry to make daily trips back and forth to Ulmenor. Those scars made me think of pirates and mutinies.

But as my brain spun out an elaborate tale of danger on the sea, someone shoved me into a narrow room about the size of a walk-in closet. Nylian crashed into me from behind, followed by a slam of the door. A metal bolt slid into place, locking us in. Or maybe protecting the women from randy crew members and other passengers. The caravan driver couldn’t afford to have his merchandise damaged on this last leg of the voyage.

The room was empty except for two rope hammocks strung up across the room and a bucket that I could only assume was our ensuite bathroom. Judging by the lack of horrendous odor, I guessed that someone had been kind enough to empty the bucket prior to our arrival.

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